There Once Was A Gurl
by youdontknowmebaby
Summary: Emma Kara is young, troubled and has some dark secrets. She needs to be saved. Paul Lahote. He's never been much of a hero but theres a first for everything, right? He's the only one who can help her. One problem. They hate each other.   Try it please.
1. PROLOGUE: There Once Was A Gurl

**THERE ONCE WAS A GURL**

_DISCLAIMER: I do not own any recogniseable characters or plots, they are rightfully S Ms._

**PROLOGUE**

There once was a girl.

She was abused by a man who had had his heart torn from his chest.

She was abused by a man who had lost his soul.

She was abused by a man who was supposed to love her.

Was it her fault he drank?

No.

Was it her fault her Mother had died and left her unprotected?

No.

Was it her fault that that her Father hated her because her birth had killed his beloved wife?

No.

There once was a girl.

She used to have a brother.

He would protect her.

She loved him.

He was no more.

There once was a girl.

She met a werewolf.

They fought.

She hated him.

He wanted to know why she lied about the bruises.

He knew she wasn't clumsy like she claimed.

He cared.

Hate turned into something else.

Was it her fault she fell in love?

Probably.

There she lays, red seeping through the white, eyes fluttering, silent unshed tears slipping over soft cheeks.

Was it her fault she was dieing?

Yes.

There once was a girl.

She was no more.

**A/N Ok, so this is my first fanfic. Let me know if you like it, reviews are much appreciated. The first chapter will be up soon and you will get a better feel of the story. I'm fourteen and I've never shared my writing with anyone because a lot of it is personal experience. SO go easy on me :) no harsh reviews, thanks, but constructive criticism is welcome :) xx**


	2. Chapter 1: Why Paul?

**CHAPTER ONE**

"Your late, Miss Kara."

She was always late. Teachers thought she slept in every day. She was just another student who didn't like school and stayed up partying all night. It was a half truth. She loved school, it was the teachers she didn't like. School was her safe place. She never got to sleep until late into the morning. He slept during the day, so he could go all night. And he did. Every night. By the time she closed her eyes, it was already time to get up and get ready for school. Time to try and stay awake.

"Detention, Miss Kara."

She glared at her Teacher. Miss Ryans. She taught history, wore glasses, owned ten billion cats. She was one of those people who would be forever alone. Emma hated the woman purely for the subject she taught. History. All the people she spoke of were dead. They clearly weren't coming back, so why know they even existed? They're gone.

A few students snickered from their seats and she turned on her heel, leaving her position in the class room doorway and letting the door slam shut behind her as she began the short distance to the small detention building. It was seperate from the actual school, made completely out of bricks, and had been there longer then the school itself.

The Quileute Tribal School had originally been a hospital ground, around a hundred years ago, and the detention building had been where they had put the crazy people. Back then, the Quileutes Had believed that people who were mentally ill had been possessed by demons. They would lock them up in the tiny building and leave them there until they died, either from starvation or dehydration. After exactly thirty days they would open the doors and burn the dead body to make sure the demon was dead.

It was one of the most haunted places in America, or so they said. She didn't care. It was almost a haven for her. It was where she got most of her sleep. She certainly spent a lot of time there. Haunted places didn't scare her. Going home was more terrifying then spending a couple of hours with some insane ghosts.

She exited the school building, walking down the pebbled path towards the detention centre. She saw Mr Ryans standing by the door. Soemone must already be in there. The door was one sided, you could only get in from the outside, the other side of the door having no handle. There were stories of kids getting forgotten in there and left for days before someone remembered them.

"Late again, Miss Kara?" Mr O'Hara smiled. He was a young teacher, around twenty five and a lot of the female students often talked about him and some even flirted openly with him. He was very attractive, russet skin, lean muscles and with a flirtatious air about him. He was by far her favourite teacher, though she certainly wasn't interested in him sexually. He was just easier on her when she was late to his classes.

"Yes." She sighed angrily, her eyes narrowing. "Who's in there?" She nodded her head towards the door, adjusting her heavy book bag on her slim, bruised shoulders. Hidden smartly by her clothing.

Mr O'hara rolled his eyes,

"Paul, who else? You and him are the only ones ever in there, him for more serious reasons."

She groaned. Paul Lahote was the last person she wanted to see at this moment. there was no way he would let her sleep.

"Let me know if he gives you any trouble, alright?"

"Sure thing."

Mr O'hare opened the door and she entered the room, waiting until she felt the door close swiftly behind her.

The whole room was about eight by ten feet, brick walls, no windows, the only light source coming from a small dim light bulb hanging pricariously from the roof by a thin wire. In the middle of the room, close together, were two old fashioned, wooden desks. One was occupied by a large oversized russet skinned boy, who had his head resting on his folded arms, legs sprawled out under the desk, his whole body slack.

For one hopeful second, she thought he was asleep and that she might be able to do the same. Her hopes were short lived.

"Late again, Kara?"

Her head tilted back until she was staring at the ceiling, hoping for some helpful words to be written there. There wasn't. She sighed before walking over and slumping down into the other desk, shouldering off her bag and letting it drop carelessly to the floor.

"Lose your temper again, Lahote?"

Paul snickered quietly, raising his head and leaning back in his seat. He examined her closely for a second before looking forward, cocky smirk in place.

"You look like shit." Emma glanced down at herself. She was wearing dark skinny jeans that were a low on her hips, held up by a belt as she had lost weight recently, from not eating nearly enough. He wouldn't allow her to eat. He said food was a privillage, not a right. She didn't even notice the hunger pains anymore. With the jeans she wore her favourite black hoody that was tight and warm with the fur hood. She knew she would have dark circles around her equally dark eyes, her hair was up in the usual messy bun and she hadn't had time to apply any make up, which was quite normal.

"You know, Lahote, I think that's actually the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

Paul cracked a grin before he hardened his features again. He had recently joined Sam Uleys little gang, dissappearing for a week or two and then coming back, with muscles, a tattoo, more pissed off then he was before. Emma was surprised that he was even talking to her, considering that the only people he usually acknowledged in school were Jacob Black, Quil Ateara, Embry Call, Jared Quail and Seth Clearwater. Though her and Paul had been together quite often, all the way back to kindy when they'd both get sent to the naughty corner.

"What did you do to get in here?" She didn't really care but Paul's temper tantrums were often over the most insignificant things.

"I didn't get mad. Mrs Faether came to class in a good mood so I told Jared she must've had some fun with Mr Faether last night. She overhead. Went ballistic. The lady has super hearing. She didn't deny it though." He grinned wryly.

"I love how you automatically assume all the teacher's in this school are depressed angry bastards because of their lack of a sex life." She scoffed.

"Well, it's true isn't it? Couldn't be anything else."

"Of course you would say something like that."

"What's that supposed to mean?" His brow furrowed.

She laughed outright. "You've slept with half the girls on the Rez."

"They come willing," He smiled.

"Course they do."

Paul frowned before his mouth turned up in a smirk. _Oh, God, here it comes._

"You jealous of all those other girls, Emma?"

Emma almost choked. "Fuck _no_."

"Sure seems like it. You could have me if ya wanted."

"Paul, you think everyone wants you."

"That's because everyone does."

She turned in her seat, eyes wide in surprise.

"You actually believe that?"

Paul studied her. "Okay, correction; everyone but you because I'm starting to think your a lesbian-which I have absolutely no problem with."

She just stared at him. "How can someone with such a _big_ head be so _stupid?_"

Paul ignored her.

"If you ever get a girlfriend, will you let me watch sometime?"

"Pfft, in your dreams," She muttered leaning back in her chair.

"Your a bitch."

"Your a jerk."

"Frigid."

"Whore."

"Goth."

"Addict."

Paul growled. The sound wasn't like anything she had ever heard before. "I don't take drugs."

"Ooooh, yay, angry Paul's come out to play."

"I don't do drugs, Emma."

"Yeah, your muscles just came outta no where."

"Brittany didn't seem to mind."

"Brittany Haka's been a slut since first grade. She's not even that pretty. She's spoilt, bitchy, gossipy, ugh."

"Ahh, you _are_ jealous." Paul snickered.

"Don't make me punch you." She warned.

"Don't do that."

"And why not?"

"I know from experience that punching someone like me doesn't turn out to well."

"Someone like you?"

"That's a good song. Adele has a nice voice."

She glared at him. "You know I didn't mean it like that."

"You don't need to know. I've said too much."

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever."

She felt his gaze on her and turned slightly to look at him, Their eyes locking. Suddenly she couldn't look away. She found herself unable to look away from Paul Lahote's Dark eyes.

It seemed like eternity before Paul looked away, though in reality it could have only been a few minutes. Even so, it was strange.

Paul growled, muttering a husky, "Fuck." and slamming his head down on the desk.

"Gee, if it's that hard to look at me, don't strain yourself." Emma hissed.

She glanced down at the wooden table in front of her. Tons of messages, pictures, words were scribled into the wood from decades of delinquents. The scribbles covered the concrete floor, the brick walls. Some were quite humourous and she spent a good hour reading them, unable to fall asleep because Paul was mumbling something into his arm over and over, driving Emma crazy. She ground her teeth. _Don't say anything, don't say anything, don't say-_

"Oh, would you _shut the fuck up_?"

Paul flinched but didn't raise his head or acknowledge that he had heard her. The mumbling, however, stopped.

"Finally," She murmered, resting her cheek on the cool wood of the desk, her eyes fluttering closed.

The door burst open and both students head's snapped up expectantly, one of them more reluctantly.

"You letting us out?" Paul grunted. Mr O'Haras face looked slightly panicked and he shook his head quickly.

"No, no, no. There's a fire in the science room, I have to go help out. I'll be back in a couple of minutes."

Emma snorted, "I hope it burns down the whole building."

Mr O'Hara frowned while Paul snickered.

She grinned, asking,"Who started it?"

"Quil Ateara. I'll be back." Mr O'Hara slammed the door with excessive force as Her and Paul burst out laughing.

"Quil's really outdone himself this time," She chuckled.

It was a few minutes before they could calm down. Paul stood up from his seat and sauntered over to the door, placing his ear against it.

"Mr O'Hara should be back here by now." He tried tugging on the door, but unsurprisingly, atleast to Emma, it wouldn't give.

"Maybe he's mourning the remaining ashes of the school. What's the time?"

Paul smiled slightly before reaching into the pocket of his cutoffs and pulling out a shiny phone. She had never had a cell phone. She'd never been allowed.

"3.30. School's out already."

"Then why am I stuck here with you?"

"I don't fucking know. Maybe he forgot."

"Forgot? How could he forget?" She squeaked. "If I don't get home my Dad will-" She stopped abruptly when she realized what she was about to say while Paul looked at her, his head tilted to the side as he studied her.

"Nevermind," She muttered. Paul tried opening the door again and every time it wouldn't open he would frown as if it _should_ open when _he_ tried to push it. She watched for awhile, amused, before he gave up with an animalistic growl and went and sat down against the brick wall she was facing from her position at her desk.

"You have some super strength your not telling me about, Paul?" Emma asked.

Paul's eyes met her again and a small shudder raced up her spined as a buzzing feeling spread through her whole body. She wanted to be with him. She wanted to please him. She wanted to be his and for him to be hers.

"Something like that," Paul muttered darkly. Emma realized both of them had their own secrets.

It was then that they both heard the faint patter of rain on the rooftop, which soon became loud as thunder roared through the air.

"Ugh. I hate rain." Emma murmered,

"Yet you live in the rainiest place on earth."

"Not by choice."

Emma shivvered as the ice cold air seeped into the room, wrapping around her body tightly. Thunder had frightened her ever since she was young but she wasn't going to admit such a fact to Paul. He watched with slight amusement as she twitched and whimpered everytime the noise would echoe through the confines of their brick prison.

Emma hugged herself, pulling her knees to her chest in hopes to stay warm. Paul, in his torn T-shirt and cutoffs seemed completely unphased by the change in weather, though he glanced at Emma with slight concern and an almost calculating face.

It wasn't long before Her teeth stated to chatter and Paul squirmed a little, anxiously watching as her flushed seemed to egt paler and paler until it started to take on a blueish tone. After another few minutes he groaned. Emma watched curiously as he reached for the hem of his top and pulled it over his head, her eyes instantly falling onto his well defined chest and stomach.

"Come here, take off your jumper." Emma blanched at his words, eyes wide.

"What?"

"Well, you could take off your pants too, but I thought that might be a bit too much for a first date."

Emma just stared at him blankly, uncomprehending.

Paul rolled his eyes. Her brain cells must have frozen too. "I'll help keep you warm. Otherwise your going to freeze to death."

"Your joking, right?"

"Do you like having fingers and toes?"

She thought over her options. Die from hypothermia _or_ snuggle up to Paul Lahote who she suddenly found herself dangerously attracted to. Gee, _That _was a _tough _one. She stood up warily from her seat, reaching for the zip of her hoodie. after a minute of her standing in that position, hand on zipper, biting her lip feverently, Paul spoke up again.

"Would you like me to close my eyes?" Paul commented, Smirking.

"Just don't get any ideas, the rest of my clothes are staying _on._"

Emma glared, ripping the zipper down quickly and throwing The jumper into her bag. Underneath she wore just a simple black tank top that showed more of her figure then anyone else usually saw. Not that she had much to show.

Paul gazed at her body anyway, with such reverence that Emma almost felt the need to cover herself up.

She walked over to Paul and stood in front of him, wringing her hands, unsure what to do next and feeling way out of her league. Paul sat there, his back against the bricks whilst his legs sprayed out in front of him. He watched her with laughing eyes, enjoying her awkwardness when she was usually so fierce. After a minute he began to feel sorry and reached up, grabbing her hand and pulling her down onto the floor, into his lap.

Emma gasped. "You're so_ warm."_ Forgetting exactly who's lap she was in at that moment, survival ranking higher then awareness, she eagerly wrapped her arms around him. Hiding her face in his neck, subtly trying to touch every part of his body.

Paul chuckled, and Emma felt warm arms encircling her waist.

"You can touch whatever you want, Babe."

"Paul, this is purely for survival. I'm not attracted to you at all."

"Not even a tiny bit?"

"Nope."

Paul leaned down til his mouth was next to her ear. "Liar. I know I get you excited, Emma, your heart is racing."

Emma hadn't even noticed how her heart was trying to break free of her chest to reach Paul and a faint blush tinted her cheeks.

_"_You might wanna calm down before you have a heart attack."

"Ha. Ha. Your hilarious, Paul."

"You know, if you get anymore thin, you'll snap." Paul placed his hands around her waist, his fingers overlapped.

"If you take anymore steroids, your dick will dissappear all together."

Paul didn't answer and for a moment Emma thought she had hurt his feelings. She glanced up to see his eyebrows furrowed, focused on her small arms. She followed his gaze to see he was looking at the purple bruises that tainted her mocha skin. His whole body gave a shudder.

"What happened?" He sounded angry and Emma flinched away from him, trying to cover her arms from his view. Paul gripped her wrist gently, despite his ferocity."Who did this to you?"

For a single breath, She wanted to tell him everything. She wanted someone to know what went on at home, late at night when the curtains were closed and everyone else was sleeping. But she had kept the secret for so long, told so many lies, that she wasn't sure she was acually capable of telling him the truth. In fact she wasn't even sure iff she knew the truth anymore.

"It's nothing. I'm clumsy." She hid her face again, breathing him in as his arms tightened around her form.

"Don't be clumsy then."

Emma smiled. "I'll try."

"Wanna play a game?"

"Depends. What game?" Any normal person would question a 'game' with Paul Lahote.

"No I never."

"How do you play?"

Paul glanced at her. "You don't know how?"

Emma shook her head.

"I get to ask yes or no questions starting with 'Have you ever..'. If your answers no, you say no I never, If your answer's yes then you have to... kiss me."

Emma swallowed.

"Anywhere?"

Paul nodded.

"Alrite, go, first question."

"Have you ever got drunk?"

Emma rolled her eyes before placing a warm kiss on Paul's collar bone.

Paul grinned. "Have you ever... done drugs of any kind?"

"No I never."

Paul nodded, glad.

"Have you ever kissed somone?"

"Mouth?"

Paul nodded his head.

"No I never."

Paul laughed.

"Really? You've never kissed anyone at all? Not even a girl?"

Emma rolled her eyes, ignoring the lesbian joke.

"No," She shrugged. "It just never happened with anyone. You have a problem with that?"

"Nope. I could help you with that though, if you'd like?"

"Mmm, you wish."

"Have you... ever had sex?"

Emma hesitated. If she told the truth, he would know somethings up. Paul wasn't stupid, not having kissed someone but having had sex would look suspicious to anyone. After a minute she leaned in and kissed his jaw.

"You've had sex but you haven't kissed someone?"

She simply nodded. Paul frowned.

"Don't ask."

"Why not?"

"It's private."

Paul's body tensed at the rejection but shook it off quickly. He was silent for a few minutes, contemplating what she had said. It was like piecing together a puzzle with a few pieces missing.

"Have you ever been forced to have sex Emma?"

Emma froze. She turned her head slightly.

_Tell the truth, _a voice in her head whispered, _He can help you, He can save you._

No. Paul couldn't save her, why would he? She was indecisive.

Her lips brushed the corner of his mouth. Paul stiffened. But then she whispered three words. A lie she would regret. She had given herself a death sentence.

"No I never."


End file.
